Page 2 of Lunar Bound
Lunar exchanged a glance with Eclipse, whose expression mirrored his own concern.
"I've updated my final arrangements," Solar announced with theatrical gravity. "In the event of my death during this mission, my belongings are to be distributed among my siblings, with the exception of my ceremonial blade, which should be used to stab Bob repeatedly."
"Always with the jokes," Bob laughed nervously. "Come aboard, come aboard! We have a schedule to maintain."
They boarded the ship in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Lunar noted the shabby interior, the mismatched control panels, and the lingering smell of something burning. This vessel had seen better days, probably centuries ago.
"Your quarters are through here," Bob guided them to a small compartment with three narrow sleep platforms. "Cozy, isn't it?"
Solar immediately claimed the platform nearest the external wall, where a small porthole would allow him to absorb light during their journey. "I require this position," he declared, daring them to challenge him.
Lunar took the platform farthest from Solar's, in the darkest corner of the compartment. Eclipse, predictably, settled for the middle one with a resigned sigh.
“I will require something to block light,” Lunar stated, glancing at his glowing bunkmate.
"Excellent!" Bob clapped his hands together. "Now, we've prepared information packets about Earth culture, mating rituals, and appropriate conversational topics. You will have plenty of time to absorb the information during the flight. Did you know humans consider discussion of bodily functions to be taboo in many social situations? Fascinating species."
"When do we see our potential mates?" Solar demanded. "I want to review my options."
"Oh, the matchmaking process happens on Earth," Bob explained. "Our new proprietary compatibility implants work best in proximity to the subjects. You'll be matched with females whose biorhythms complement your own unique energy signatures."
They did not need implants to tell them what they would know naturally. Matching energies was a science. Either they did or they didn't.
"And if no suitable matches are found?" Lunar asked, speaking the question that had been troubling him since this mission was announced.
Bob's smile faltered slightly. "Well, technically, the contract requires good-faith participation in the matching process for a minimum of one Earth month. After that, if no connections have been formed, we can discuss alternatives."
"Meaning we're stuck there for at least a month regardless," Solar concluded darkly.
"Think of it as a cultural exchange," Bob suggested brightly. "A chance to experience new customs, new foods, new social structures."
"I think of it as exile," Lunar said softly, though only Eclipse seemed to hear him.
The ship's engines rumbled to life, vibrating through the floor in a way that did not inspire confidence in their structural integrity. A voice that must belong to the trainee Harris crackled over the communication system.
"Preparing for departure. Please secure all personal items and fasten safety restraints."
Solar muttered something uncomplimentary about Harris' parentage as they made their way to the main cabin for takeoff. The chairs were mismatched, as if salvaged from different vessels, but they all appeared to have functional restraints.
As Lunar secured himself in the chair farthest from the viewports, he caught sight of the Peacemaker Council representatives watching from the observation deck. Their grim expressions were solemn. Not the look of officials sending diplomats on a hopeful mission, but of jailers dispatching prisoners to a remote colony.
Lunar realized the council didn't expect them to succeed. They were removing them from the equation to prevent them from influencing the upcoming conflict.
The implications were troubling. If the council believed war was inevitable, this mission wasn't a peace initiative. It was a convenient way to eliminate three influential figures from opposing factions before hostilities began.
The engines roared louder, drowning out Bob's cheerful commentary about the wonders of interstellar travel. The ship shuddered as it lifted from the platform, lurching sideways in a manner that suggested Harris' nearly sixty percent of certification was being generously rounded up.
"Is this normal?" Solar demanded as the vessel banked sharply, sending loose items sliding across the floor.
"Absolutely!" Bob assured them, though his knuckles had turned a paler shade of yellow as he gripped his own restraints. "Just a bit of turbulence. Very common during orbital departure."
Lunar closed his eyes, focusing on the techniques his people used to remain calm in crisis. The shadow-dwellers had survived centuries of hardship by adapting, by finding advantages in situations others considered hopeless. He would do the same.
When he opened his eyes again, they had cleared the atmosphere, and the blackness of space surrounded them. Here, at least, he felt more comfortable. The darkness between stars was familiar territory.
"Now then," Gary appeared from the pilot's cabin, looking harried. "Let's discuss the finer points of your Earth experience. We've selected a location called Duskrock, Arizona, which is known for its spiritual energy and openness to unusual visitors."
"Meaning they won't immediately report us to authorities when we display non-human traits," Eclipse translated.
